Do I Know You?
by Defiant.Anjeru
Summary: Hawke had a one night experience with an apostate in Lothering before the Blight ripped her life apart. Now in Kirkwall, she's sent to an ex Grey Warden apostate named Anders for information regarding her expedition. Something about him screams familiarity and she won't stop until she's figured out exactly why that is. F!MageHawke/Anders, slightly NSFW.


**A/N: **So this really had the potential to be more than a one-shot, or just a long one-shot. Kind of went with the latter. I decided to write some Anders/Hawke; they need some love too. -nod- If you have a moment afterward, please do leave a review! They make me grin like an idiot, which is always a good way to start off your day. You all rock regardless!

This is one is a slightly NSFW, but there is no actual sex, just foreplay/play important to the story.

**Thanks To: **Hatsepsut for all your input when we discussed this piece; I wouldn't have been able to figure out what it was that I wanted to do if it weren't for you. Thank you!

**Cover Image credit belongs to BevH :)**

Disclaimer: Bioware

* * *

**Do I Know You?**

* * *

She hadn't thought anything special of the Grey Warden she had been sent to find. She was seeking him out for information that would help the expedition she was planning, that was all. Yet, as she stood here, staring at him, she couldn't help but feel as if she'd seen him somewhere before. The sense of familiarity never left, not even after they went to the Chantry at night to save his friend, Karl, from the Templars. He displayed magic she was unfamiliar with and it helped to temporarily restore his friend, though they failed to save him. She walked with him back to the clinic of his in Darktown, to help put him at ease and discuss that magic; as it turned out, he was possessed, or 'merged', with a spirit of Justice he had met in Amaranthine after he'd become a Grey Warden.

Sure, she paid the due amount of attention to all this, the important bits, but the only thing she could think of to say at the end of the day was - "Do I know you?"

He blinked and stared at her in question for a long moment before he spoke up. "Excuse me?"

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I can't imagine how you could," he said with a slight smile and a shrug. "I believe this to be the first time we've met, Hawke."

And they'd left it at that. For awhile. Occasionally she would broach the subject again, but she was always given the same answer. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, that feeling of familiarity never went away.

The burning question was –_ Why?_

The expedition didn't go as planned. In fact, Bartrand, the greedy bastard, opted to lock them in the deep roads instead of sharing the treasures they found in that underground Thaig. When all was said and done, they managed to find their way out but not without a price. Carver, her brother, started showing signs of the taint. He'd collapsed. If Anders hadn't been there, he would have died. Instead the ex Grey Warden led them to Strout, another Grey Warden, and begged him to take on her brother as a recruit. He was reluctant, but did so in the end.

As they returned to the surface and to Kirkwall, Hawke knew that even if she couldn't place where she knew this man, she was indebted to him for saving the life of her brother should he survive the joining.

That's when that spark of friendship began to grow into something more. What that something was, Hawke didn't know yet.

Before she knew it, three years had passed with little but noticeable changes in their relationship. The easy companionship was there with the occasional flirting. They grew closer, that much she could feel, and even as they did so, she was still stumped on why he seemed so bloody familiar to her. Years had passed and it was as insistent as it had been from the moment she'd met him.

At this point she wanted to start beating her head against a wall as the curiosity turned to burning frustration; she no longer wanted to know, she _needed _to know.

That need only got worse after she caught Isabela and Anders having a conversation about how they knew each other; why was it so easy for them to place each other? Did Anders even feel as if _she_ were familiar somehow?

"You're Ferelden. Ever spend time at the Pearl?" Isabela asked him as they walked through the merchant booths in Hightown.

"That's it!" Anders exclaimed as if the pieces had clicked together. "You really liked that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name?"

"The _lay_ Warden?" Isabela chuckled. Hawke's brow rose at that one.

"That's right." He paused a moment. "I think you were there the night I - "

"_Ooooh! _Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was _nice_."

"Please stop talking. Now," Hawke choked out.

Electricity thing? Why in the Maker did that spark something in her?

All of a sudden, it was like the puzzle pieces had snapped into place. Anders had been a runaway mage. In Ferelden. Who had a little electricity trick that he did whenever he got intimate.

_Maker's breath! _

There was...there was no way. She paused purposefully at a booth to get a sidelong glance at his features. Same honey blonde hair though longer, same amber hued eyes but older, same square jaw, and strong, almost regal nose. The earring was gone, though. And his stubble was darker. Not unusual, given how many years had passed. Maker...it really _was_ him, she was sure of it.

But there was really only one way she could be entirely certain of his identity.

She had to seduce him.

* * *

Ever since Hawke had asked him that curious little question – do I know you – Anders had been thrown for a loop. She'd had the look in her eye, one that said 'I know you', and as hard as he tried, he couldn't shake the odd sense of deja vu he had when looking at her. The mage struck something in him that he couldn't deny, whether he knew her or not. She's was feisty, witty, and Maker, was she beautiful. She sympathized with the way the mages were treated and helped any that were in need; she was everything that he could have wished for in a woman. And he desired her, longed for her, for four long years. Something about those crystalline blue eyes drew him in and haunted his dreams, every single night, but he was determined to keep himself away from her; she deserved the best kind of man, not an apostate runaway Grey Warden possessed by the spirit of Justice.

It was the single hardest thing he could remember doing, but somehow, he managed to keep himself from her, if only to keep her safe. That didn't lessen the want, or the need for her. It burned hotter, brighter, the longer he suppressed it.

Being around her was torture, but he wouldn't have traded it for the whole of Thedas. That thought made him smile as he placed the small bowl of milk just outside the doors of his clinic.

"What are you doing?" Her felt her walk up behind him, no doubt done with her part in making their potions. He turned his head to look at her, finding her slim black brow raised in question.

"Putting out milk," he said with a half smile as he pushed himself up from he'd knelt. "I miss having a cat around, but I think the refugees have scared them all off." His features scrunched up in displeasure as he turned to face her, muttering, "Or…maybe eaten them."

"Eaten them?" She asked incredulously.

"Desperate times call for desperate acts; they have to eat." He shrugged with a frown.

"Ick." She visibly shuddered. "Poor creatures. It's good to see you're looking out for them."

Her words made him nearly grin, but he reigned it in and merely nodded. She had a kind heart, often times at odds with her sarcastic, witty tongue. He didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't met her; only one other girl had ever even made him feel a fraction of what he felt for Hawke. He stopped moving as he looked at her amused expression; when had he even started pacing? Maker, this woman was going to drive him insane eventually.

"I've been meaning to thank you, Hawke. Someone like you, making a name for yourself in Kirkwall, it's done a lot for the mages." He smiled to her, wanting the honesty of his words to shine through. "You are the kind of leader we need, to tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our Maker given gifts."

"You have such ambitious plans for me," she chuckled. "I would not want to see the Templars lock you up, Anders. Never that."

He felt his heart warm at her words, but at the same time, he felt that he needed to steel himself. She was working her way past his barriers steadily and he didn't think he could hold them up for much longer, especially if it was she who pushed at them. Maker, did he even _want _to hold them up any longer? He sighed softly, reached out for her, but then stopped and withdrew slightly. "Hawke, there is something I should say...I feel I should say."

"I've always told you that you could tell me anything."

"Maker, I've tried to hold back," he groaned out. "You've seen what I can do, what happens to me...what I almost did to that poor girl." He trailed off as the shame welled up within him again; Justice had been so worked up that Anders hadn't been able to control him and together they had almost killed an innocent mage in their blind tantrum. He sighed softly. "I am just a man, beneath it all. I will not be able to resist if you continue to tease me this way."

"Tease you?" She nearly grinned at that, he could see the way the corner of her lips twitched. "I wasn't aware I was, but if so, might I pose a question?"

He looked at her cautiously, but nodded. "Fair enough. What would you ask of me?"

She pushed herself up from the wall where she had been leaning and sauntered over to him. He swallowed thickly as she laid her hands on his chest and looked up at him through thick, dark lashes, her crystalline eyes threatening to suck out his very soul. "How long before I drive you mad?" She whispered, licking her lips.

He was instantly rock hard, every nerve in his body screaming for her touch. To the Void with it, he decided, his hands rising to cup her face. She mmm'd softly and leaned into his touch. With a soft groan, he dropped his head and slanted his lips across her hard, passionately. In case she changed her mind, he wanted the furious kiss he'd always imagined he'd have with her. She was all for it, her tongue coaxing his into a sensual dance for the briefest of moments before he managed to tear himself away for the sake of sanity.

"Hawke, sweet Hawke," he whispered before sighing with defeat. "This will be a disaster, but I cannot live without it. We could die tomorrow, we could die today, and I don't want it to be without my having told you how I feel."

"How _do _you feel?" She whispered, ghosting her fingers down his cheek. Then she smirked, asking teasingly, "are you going to say it in verse?"

He nearly choked on a laugh. "I used to think I'd meet a girl and fall in love. I thought I did once. But with Justice, I thought this part of my life was over." He pulled her close and kissed her lips gently, a fleeting caress. "I cannot give you a normal life, Hawke. We'll be hunted, the whole world will be against us, more so than they already are. If your door is open tonight, I will come to you," he promised, untangling himself from her and stepping away, instantly cold without her there. "If it is closed, then I will know you have taken my warning at last."

In the end, it would be her choice and he would not look back with regret knowing he had at last put himself out there.

* * *

She left her door open that night and he came as he promised. She was not disappointed. Maker, this was probably a really bad idea, but she had to know. She felt for him, felt for him dearly, but this last little bit was the make it or break it point. If it wasn't him, she'd still want this with him. If it was him, she'd probably still want this with him, once the hurt wore off that he'd forgotten her(not that she was completely blameless; had she not forgotten him herself?).

He even _felt_ familiar. The taste of his lips, the smell of elfroot, the scratch of his stubble along her smooth skin; all of it, all of it screamed of a memory from years passed long ago. He pressed her down to the bed, his lips and tongue teasing her as he made his way down her neck. His hands made quick work of her top, tossing it to the floor before moving to her skirt, leaving her in nothing but her breast-band and small-clothes.

"Beautiful," he murmured as he ghosted his lips across the swell of her breast. His hand cupped and caressed its twin, making her moan softly as her body trembled beneath him. "I've been dreaming of this for three years, every night."

"Anders," she moaned his name as her nipples hardened beneath his palms and rasped against the cloth covering them. "Take them off, it's okay, I want you to look at me."

"I've always looked at you," he said and she could hear the honesty in his voice, and it humbled her. He divested her of her breast-band to have it join her growing pile of clothes. She blushed as he drew his fingers over the scar on the side of her breast, his brows dropping down in a look of concentration. He then slid his fingers to the opposite breast and caressed the twin scar there; did he recognize them? He shook his head and trailed his fingers down to the edge of her small-clothes, hooking his fingers there to slide them slowly down her legs, kissing flesh as he went making her shiver.

When the small-clothes joined the pile, she pushed herself to her elbows and met him halfway as he crawled back over her. Their lips met, clashed, tongues sliding around one another until they had to break apart for a much needed gasp of breath.

"Anders?" It was now or never.

"Yes?"

"Will you do something for me?"

He smiled and kissed her gently. "Anything."

She swallowed, suddenly nervous. This was it. This would tell her the truth of who he was to her. "Will you show me your...electricity trick?"

He leaned back, both his dark brows rising nearly into his hair. "Are you sure?" He asked, cautiously. "I know what that conversation with Isabela probably made you curious but - "

"Please," she whispered.

"As you wish, Hawke. Lay back," he whispered and she did so. He leaned down to kiss her soundly, turning her to a puddle of desire beneath him before he continued on his way. His mouth traveled down her neck as his fingers found her wet, burning hot core, tracing the sodden lips of it. She moaned softly, her thighs trembling and opening for him of their own volition. He dipped a finger inside of her and her walls contracted on it, making him groan against her throat. He added a second finger, stretching her, and she pushed her hips against his hand, even as his thumb found her clit and rubbed the bundle of her nerves. A whimper slipped free as his lips found her nipples, tongue swirling around it to tease it to a tight, aching peak that was nearly torturous.

In her mind, she knew it was coming, but she couldn't help the scream that left her throat when it hit; at all three points, he sparked. A brief jolt to her wet, contracting walls, her aching clit, and hardened nipple, but it was so intense, she immediately fell into an intense orgasm. Her body arched and she shuddered as her scream died down, her core bathing his fingers in her juices.

Slowly, the high wore off and as he grinned down at her, she knew without a doubt whom she had in her bed. There was no denying it now. Only one man had ever done this to her before; a blonde, runaway apostate she'd met in Lothering before the blight whom she'd given her virginity to.

Suddenly tears built in her eyes. _He doesn't remember me, even now. _

He looked shocked, his eyes widening. "Hawke, what is it? Did I do something wrong?"

"I do know you," she whispered. "I couldn't get past that, that somehow I knew you. And I remembered, Anders. But you didn't...you don't remember me?" She raised her hand and gathered magic there, before drawing icy-cold fingers along his cheek. She did as she had done all those years ago, drawing those ice-infused fingers across his lips. Then she withdrew and sealed off her mana, staring into those warm amber eyes that were clouded with confusion.

"I didn't know her name," he finally breathed after a very long, tense moment of silence.

She couldn't help the smile that teased her lips as a tear rolled down her cheek. "You do now. Maker's breath, Anders, I can't believe it's really you."

"That girl, she was the only one I could think about when they dragged me back to the tower. She haunted my dreams for so long, kept me sane when Uldrid went mad. She was the closest I'd ever come to allowing myself to love someone," he breathed as he cupped her face. "After I merged with Justice, her face began to fade but I could still remember that night. To think she had been under my nose this entire time and the same woman I fell madly in love with here."

"I love you, Anders."

He smiled, truly smiled for once in all the years he'd spent here in Kirkwall. "I've loved you since that night so many years ago, Hawke, even if I didn't know til now that it was you."

It must have been a gift from the Maker, or an ironic twist of fate, that had led them back together, but Hawke couldn't have been happier than she was in this moment. Anders had always been her one and only, and would continue to be just that.


End file.
